Every storm runs out of rain

The wind is blowing very hard at times. I look out at the rain as it hits my face and I can’t look forward as much as I could just seconds before. I told on tight to anything I can wrap my hands around and I say a prayer. The rain has to stop at some point. The rain blows hard and feel the drops hit hard against my face, my skin, my soul. The thunder grows and the lighting lights up every small detail of the world that is blowing all around me. The water is rising around my feet and just when I think that I can’t hold on anymore..just when my fingers start to slip..

It starts to get easier..This storm I know is about to pass.

I ask myself about what kind of damage has this storm caused me so far and while the storm is starting to pass, I can not really look forward yet to all those things that blew over, those things that I need to rebuild.

The storm is passing but only now are the real tears ready to roll.

 

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